Epiphany: being troubled by the Incarnation

Yesterday, 6 January, most Roman Catholics around the world celebrated Epiphany. Epiphany, of course, is a celebration of the magi finding and offering homage to the infant Jesus, "the newborn king." It is from the three gifts that we extrapolate 3 magi. Tradition has even bestowed on the magi names: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar.

Adoration of the Magiy, unfinished painting by Leonardo Da Vinci, ca, 1481

The three gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh are symbolic of Jesus's divinity, royalty, and humanity respectively. Because they represent "the nations" (i.e., non-Jewish peoples of the world), the three magi are often depicted as black, Asian, and white. Just as in Acts 10 we read about the so-called "Pentecost of the Gentiles," Matthew's account of the magi coming from the nations to worship the King of Israel, who is also the Lord of the Universe, can perhaps be viewed as "Christmas of the Gentiles."

In many traditionally Catholic countries, Epiphany is understood as "Little Christmas." It is a day on which gifts are exchanged.

In pondering the Gospel reading for Epiphany, I am struck by the end of Matthew 2:3. The beginning of the verse notes that Herod "was greatly troubled" by the prospect of the birth of a male child who might have a legitimate claim to his throne. But the second part of the verse points out that "all Jerusalem" was greatly troubled with him. Why?

One answer to that question is the prospect of change, especially radical change, let alone the revolutionary change Jesus came to bring, is usually not very welcome. After all, the status quo is what we know.

It has been noted that the Incarnation of the Son of God “is so earth-shattering that it enacts something akin to the psychoanalytic concept of trauma” on the world (John Milbank, Slavoj Zizek, Creston Davis, Paul’s New Moment: Continental Philosophy and the Future of Christian Theology . Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 7).

If not greatly troubled, perhaps we might do well to let ourselves be at least somewhat troubled by the radical and revolutionary nature of Christ's coming in time, to let ourselves in on the traumatic, often depicted as merely dramatic, implications of the Incarnation.

Before I forget (again): A Happy, Blessed, Joyful Christmas to all my old calendar Orthodox friends!

Maybe a bit too predictably, our traditio for this first Friday of 2022 is the choir of King's College Cambridge singing "We Three Kings of Orient Are."